


Snow Day

by notjustmom



Series: Box of 64 [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Snow, mention of Sherlock's time away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 00:18:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10293143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff on a snow day in March. Rosie's almost 3 here...send me peaceful thoughts, prayers whatever you got.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Smmink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smmink/gifts).



> for my lovely reader, Smmink :)

Rosie was beaming in Sherlock's arms as they entered the flat; completely soaked, pink nosed, and teeth-chattering. Sherlock put her down carefully and tried to get her out of her jacket and snow pants before she -

"Papa, 'now!!!!" She ran over to the couch where John was nursing a cold, a gift from the clinic and the drastic shift in the weather, and flung herself into his arms.

John laughed hoarsely in spite of himself, and whispered, "I know, Rosie, isn't it beautiful?" He glanced up at Sherlock, who had shrugged out of his coat, and was now ruffling his hair, removing the last bits of snow, stomping his feet, attempting to get feeling back into his toes, before he looked over at John and groaned.

"Ro - now Papa's all wet, come on, my little snow angel; let's get out of those wet clothes, and into the bubble bath, yeah? Then we can tell Papa about the snow later, right?"

"Bubbles!!" Rosie kissed John's nose, then slid off of him, and half walked, half tumbled back to Sherlock, who blew John a kiss, then hauled Rosie into his arms and carried her into the bathroom. John sighed and threw off his damp blankets, pushed his feet into his slippers and put on the kettle for tea and hot cocoa, then went into the bedroom to change.

Over hot chocolate with whipped cream (mostly whipped cream with a bit of cocoa) and fresh biscuits from Nana, Rosie demonstrated her snow angel technique, and how to 'popperly make a 'nowball, but Da says it's not good 'nowball 'now yet, too dwy, but maybe tomow-' then climbed into Sherlock's lap, snuggled against his chest, and promptly fell asleep, a biscuit still held tightly in her small hand. Sherlock kissed her head gently, then carefully stood up, and carried her to her room. When he came back he placed the unfinished bit of biscuit on a napkin and looked over at John.

"I haven't seen this much snow since my time away," he began quietly. "I was in the States, somewhere, close to Canada, Buffalo, maybe? Winds were insane, a foot of snow fell in an hour, the drifts...I almost missed my connection..." His voice trailed off for a moment, and he took a sip of lukewarm cocoa, then cleared his throat and began again, in a whisper. "But I remember how beautiful it was, how quiet, how peaceful, and I wished you were there to see it." He shook his head. "There were so many beautiful places and things, John, but, I - if I had taken you with me, I know, I know in my gut that we wouldn't be here now, because the ugliness, the things I did, the other side of that beauty -"

John nodded, and laid his feverish hand over Sherlock's now thawed out fingers, effectively stopping the tumble of words that Sherlock couldn't finish on his own. "I know, love. Shhh, I know. Let's clean this up later, yeah? I think we both need a nap?" He squeezed Sherlock's fingers, then got up slowly and coughed. "Damn."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but stood up and took John's hand in his, and walked them both to bed, where they snuggled tightly together and listened to the silence of the snow and the hum of the monitor, before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
